


How to Cheer up your Guard

by 1FrozenRutabaga



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Five Nights at Freddy's Fanfic Parlour, Gen, Gift for a Tumblr Artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 16:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1FrozenRutabaga/pseuds/1FrozenRutabaga
Summary: Mike's having a bad day, so the animatronics do their best to cheer him up.





	How to Cheer up your Guard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I wrote this for the Parlour a while ago and finally finished it about yesterday, and the Parlour actually posted it! So, I decided to post it here for anyone who doesn't have a tumblr or anything like that.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of these characters are from my OLF AU. These are the interpretations of Parlour and their creators (Avec, Snappy, and Echo), who were one of the few officially given the Reborniverse. I do not own these characters or their interpretations, only the work that I wrote of them.
> 
> (Also, don't worry, chapter six of Our Little Family is in the works! Stay tuned!)

The moment Mike walked through the doors, it was obvious that he was sad. Even the Fazband, locked in the back like usual, could see that when he made his rounds near the bathrooms.

It wasn’t too often that Mike became sad enough for it to show, but it wasn’t too uncommon either. When he was sad, it was obvious, at least from the animatronics’ point of view. His posture was soft, his shoulders slumped just so, and his face was fixated into a frown that looked permanent. Sometimes the kids would notice, even the ones that always caused him trouble, and they’d bring Mike over drawings and shares of their sweets. It would work, even if it was just for a few minutes, but almost always it returned instantly after the kids had left.

They didn’t have a reason to cheer Mike up. Heck, with all the memories of him damaging them and throwing them around like they were made of tinfoil, they shouldn’t be wanting to cheer him up at all, but they _did_ deserve it. After all, Mike had been hunted by the original Fazband for a long time, then another one had been tacked onto the agenda, and even if he didn’t have to really deal with them now that he was on day shift, there were still the previous guards that took after him and Jeremy. Even as much as it frustrated them, Mike was just trying to survive, so the least he deserved was a little kindness on their part.

Back in the old pizzeria, the Fazband had certainly tried their best. They could get just close enough to pat Mike’s back with a broom for a few minutes, maybe even slip him some pizza or a cupcake when he wasn’t looking. It would work a little magic, even if it was just a little. On the really bad nights, when Mike wouldn’t eat the offerings, the broom was the best bet. It even worked a lot of the time, the guard slumping beneath it. The kids would give Mike some reprieve, but even then it was mostly because it wasn’t really “fun” or “fair” to go after someone that wouldn’t put up a fight. Still, they could at least cheer Mike up somewhat.

Now was different, of course, but both of the Fazbands felt that it was their duty to do something.

The Toys snuck around when they weren’t performing. It was hard for them to get close to Mike, and not just because of the kids. Mike snarled at them every time they made eye contact with him, the exhaustion momentarily giving way to the raw anger he always held inside him. The message was clear, but that didn’t mean the bands were going to heed it.

Chicacoo managed to get just close enough behind him to whisper, “Mikey?”

Mike’s head snapped around. His scowl was deeper than usual, more annoyed. “Don’t call me that. What the hell do ya want?” he hissed through gritted teeth. He wanted to say fuck, but he’d be giving himself rope if any of the kids overheard and it got to their parents. It sucked to have a filter on, but he’d rather be censored than work full time night shift, even if the animatronics were swapped out for loud and misbehaving kids. “Get back on stage.”

The plastic chicken frowned as much as her beak would allow her to. She stepped a bit closer despite his demand. “I brought you something.”

Mike huffed. He didn’t want to deal with the animatronics, at any time of any day, but he really didn’t have the energy to make Chicacoo go away unless she got close enough to grab him. “It better not be another bug, or else I’ll make sure you go somewhere in orbit.”

Chicacoo moved her hands from behind her back. It was a little cupcake on a platter. It wasn’t her plastic one, it was a real cupcake. Its wrapping was a shiny silver that fit well with the chocolate flavoring of its form. The icing was a bright blue, swirled and dotted with star sprinkles. Mike had no idea when the hell Chicacoo had gotten anywhere near the display case, since that was the only place she could have gotten it from, and he was fairly concerned that she had escaped his sight.

“Here,” she said, carefully offering it to him.

The blue eyes narrowed. “What’s your game?”

“Nothing!” Chicacoo squeaked. She looked like she would cry if she could. “You just look really sad, Mikey! I just wanted to make you feel better.”

That was just great: the killer robots were “concerned” about him. “I said don’t call me that, and I don’t need your… your…” He shook his head. “Your _help_ ,” he spat the word. Any word he thought about using didn’t sound right. “I’m fine. Go back to your goddamn stage already.”

Chicacoo’s eyes dimmed. “Mikey…”

Mike fought from throwing her across the room. He brought up a hand and rubbed his forehead, a headache sharpening itself there. He never got these goddamn robots, no matter how many times Jeremy tried explaining it to him. By night they were trying to kill him and Jeremy, or just anyone that wasn’t a kid, and by day they were somewhat normal, bubbly and happy. Now, what, they were trying to cheer him up without even knowing if he was upset or not? Like some kind of sad prank. Mike looked up to see Chicacoo still there, still offering the cupcake.

 _Fucking goddammit._ Chicacoo couldn’t be around the kids looking upset, and Mike seriously didn’t want to be responsible for any bad moods from the others. He sighed and held out a hand. “Just… Just give me the stupid cupcake.”

The Toy instantly brightened up. Chicacoo handed it to Mike swiftly, smiling widely. “I knew you’d like it!” she chirped.

Mike studied it on the paper plate. He hated to admit that she had somehow gotten his favorite flavor. “Yeah,” he grunted. Then, “Thanks.”

Chicacoo gasped. “Oh, thank you, Mikey!” she squealed. She moved forward, arms outstretched.

The guard instantly backed up. “No touchin’,” he snapped.

The animatronic gave a small giggle. “Sorry!” She then turned on her heel and skipped back towards the crowd. “Feel better, Mikey!”

Mike fought another sigh. He glanced down at the cupcake again, then raised a brow. A tiny piece of paper was beneath it, smeared with crumbs and icing. He snorted before slipping it from beneath the cupcake. He flipped it open. He could recognize the handwriting from the different Toys, each in different colored crayon. Even Billy’s name was on it.

This time the sigh got loose. _Fucking hell._

-

It wasn’t every day when the old animatronics came from the backroom. Sometimes they poked their heads out, to which Mike had to carefully shove them back in without losing a hand, and they rarely wandered into the main area. The kids would start crying, sometimes they’d even outright shriek, which would almost always deter the old bots and send them trudging back to Parts and Service, dejected.

In a way, despite the violent past they had together, Mike felt a little bad for them when he’d have to lead them back to their room. Of course, it wasn’t enough for him to really care about them, but it was enough for him to keep his mouth shut and give them space during the trip.

But again; the old bots didn’t leave the backroom often, so Mike had gotten a fierce fright when he turned from the desk and found Bonnie standing in the doorway.

“Shit!” Mike hissed, jumping a mile backwards with a racing heart. “When did you get out?” he growled. He was really off his game today.

Bonnie’s narrow red eyes fluttered, like a blink. The ragged rabbit shuffled into the office, undeterred by Mike’s panic. Once he was completely inside, he stopped, looking at the guard with those creepy, curious lights.

“What?” Mike snapped. The best way to deal with the old animatronics when they got out was to be calm, but damn Bonnie had scared him. “Your buddies kick ya out or somethin’?” If that was the case, Mike had no idea how to even begin solving that.

Bonnie shook his head. A naked metal finger was brought up and pointed at him.

The blue eyes took on a slightly curious light. “Me?”

Bonnie nodded. He seemed proud that Mike had interpreted him correctly. It was pretty awful not having a voice.

Mike relaxed a little, just a bit. The animatronics weren’t a problem in the daytime, but still. “Okay…” he said quietly. “What about me?”

Being unable to communicate verbally and being without two arms, Bonnie had to think of creative ways to get his point across. He seemed to splutter for a moment, his one hand opening and closing while he looked at it with intensity. Mike watched, his curiosity piqued. It took a few minutes, but finally Bonnie seemed to realize how to phrase his sentence, and so the rabbit brought up his hand and curved his pointer finger over where his mouth had been.

“Uh…” Mike squinted his eyes as if it would do anything. “A mouth?”

Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. He gave his finger a small shake, keeping it curved.

“Frown?” Mike guessed. Either Bonnie had the urge to play charades or he was actually needing to say something. Mike just needed to keep the thing calm.

Another nod. _So close!_

It took Mike a minute to piece things together. Chicacoo’s cupcake, the other Toys laying off him, and now Bonnie coming from the backroom to the office. He groaned. “Really? You too?” Mike crossed his arms. “I’m fine, for christ’s sake!”

Bonnie’s head tilted to the side. It was obvious that he didn’t believe Mike.

Mike rubbed his temples. “Okay, ya furries need to get off my goddamn back. I don’t need ya smotherin’ me with your…” He had to find the word again, because he still couldn’t believe this was happening. “Your concern or whatever. Go back to Parts and Service.”

Bonnie didn’t move. Bonnie wasn’t a complete pushover and he wasn’t as bad as the other animatronics; not as stubborn or annoying. Of course, he was still a little bastard whenever he decided to come and visit. The rabbit shuffled over to the side of the room and promptly sat down.

Mike growled. “Are ya serious? You’re goin’ to be like that?” He reached for his belt. “Fine, ya asked for it.”

Except there wasn’t anything to ask for, because Mike’s taser wasn’t there. The guard’s eyes widened, he patted his side for another moment, and then he groaned. He must have left it at home. He could picture it on the table, charging. He had no way of making Bonnie leave without getting messy.

“Fuckin’…” He huffed. “Ya don’t do shit, ya hear?” he said to Bonnie. “Ya don’t need any reminders unless I’ve knocked your brains out permanently.”

Bonnie just nodded.

For his break, Mike spent it in the office. Wanting to avoid any more problems, Mike had scrapped together some crayons and paper to occupy Bonnie. It worked, the rabbit scribbling away while Mike ate his lunch. He would catch a red light from the corner of his eyes every once in a while, observing him, but for the most part Bonnie left him alone.

Mike had shot text after text to Jeremy about the situation. He felt bad for probably waking the kid up, but Mike was sort of freaking out. Jeremy had responded confusedly at first, then touched when Mike admitted that he was in a bad mood.

 _“They just want to make you feel better,”_ Jeremy had texted; salt on the wound by adding a smiley face.

Mike had fought a snort and responded with, _“A truce would be better than bugging me.”_

When Mike finished his lunch, and the fucking cupcake, he couldn’t help but turn his attention towards Bonnie. The animatronic was drawing what looked to be a dog, the artistic talent equivalent to that of a little child’s. Mike couldn’t help but stare. He didn’t get these things, especially the older ones. They would be hell-bent on killing him, merciless even when that kid was with him, and then they’d be docile, even childlike. There was no in between.

Out of all the animatronics, Bonnie was the least pain in the ass. Again, he could be the most stubborn asshole when push came to shove, but he took his leave pretty quickly. If Bonnie knew that Mike was upset, then the other ones did as well. Had they sent Bonnie to try and make things better because they knew Mike hated him less?

Why the hell would they even _care?_

A sudden touch on Mike’s shoulder slapped him back to reality. He jerked his head up, his eyes refocusing to see the end of a broom hovering over his shoulder. Bonnie was holding it.

“The fuck?” Mike snapped. His hand flew up and snatched the lower handle. “Where’d ya get that?”

Bonnie didn’t indicate any response, nor did he let go of it.

Mike eyed the broom. He remembered way back from his time with them one of his bad days. They had confused him even more back then by slipping food into the office when he wasn’t looking or even reaching in with a broom to pat his back. They had still been out for him, sure, but it was like they were trying to equalize the playing field. It must not have been fun chasing after someone who could barely put up a fight.

“Goddammit, put it down!” Mike snarled.

Again, Bonnie didn’t let go.

It was a standoff between them for a few minutes, Mike’s eyes a piercing, angry glare and Bonnie standing his ground. The sound of children’s laughter would echo down the hallways, but from the lack of screams, it seemed like the standoff between the senior guard and killer animatronic remained private.

Mike let out a grunt. _This isn’t gonna work._ Bonnie was being extra stubborn; he wasn’t going to let go no matter what. Without the presence of any real harm, because Mike couldn’t beat the thing down with people just down the hall, Bonnie had found an advantage.

“You’re such a prick.” Mike’s grip tightened on the handle. “If I let ya have this, ya don’t fuckin’ touch me with it. Clear?”

Bonnie nodded. Mike reluctantly let go of the broom, though he used his now free hand to shoo the robot away. The rabbit listened, returning to his spot with the papers and crayons, broom still in hand.

Mike got up to do his rounds again, leaving the room with a, “Fuckin’ hell.”

-

Mike didn’t know when he fell asleep. He had no idea he had until he was struggling to open his eyes. There was warmth, a blanket, and a pressure that repeated a steady petting motion over his back.

There wasn’t anything too eventful to remember. Bonnie had remained in the office, silent and still, while Mike had done his rounds. Every time he returned to the office to make sure the animatronic was still there, Bonnie would be sitting in the same spot. It creeped Mike out to come back to drawings of misshapen animals and kids and those creepy eyes, but there wasn’t much he could do other than deal with it.

He wasn’t sure when the drowsiness kicked in, but his head had been pillowed in his arms and his eyes lazily watching the hallway. Being around crowds of kids and bipolar animatronics for hours was horribly draining. Even with Bonnie in the room, he was too tired. Boss would probably tear his head off, but Mike did a lot of shit that that man wouldn’t dream of doing.

The motion going over his back was soothing. For a moment, Mike forgot he was at work. He thought he was on the couch, Doll’s hand going over his back with his head pillowed against that beautifully familiar belly. Mike let out a soft hum, shifting to get more comfortable.

The hand had stuttered and quickly pulled away. The illusion was broken, Mike’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t at home with Doll, he was still at the pizzeria.

Then who the fuck was touching him?

Mike jerked up. A loud crash sounded behind him, like something had fallen over. He looked back to see Foxy on the ground, yellow eyes wide with panic. The tattered animatronic was scrambling to his feet, his legs flailing against the tiles.

“Shit!” Mike barked, jumping back. “How the fuck did ya get in here?!”

Foxy got to his feet and blew past Mike. He could feel the breeze Foxy left in his panic. Mike caught a glimpse of the red blur running down the hall, his attention now turned to the room. He looked around wildly to see if there was anyone else who shouldn’t be in there, but there was no one. Bonnie was gone, his drawings and crayons missing.

He looked at the clock. It was ten minutes past his shift.

“What the fuck–?”

“Mike!” Chris bolted into the room. He looked horrified, but relieved. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mike looked over Chris’s shoulder. “What the hell happened, and how the fuck did Foxy get in here?”

“You fell asleep,” the janitor told him. “We tried to say something, but…” He shuddered. “Bonnie wouldn’t let us in and the Toys kept chasing us away.”

Of course they did. “But when did Foxy get in here?” he asked.

Chris shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess he just slipped out when no one was looking. No one heard any kids screaming, so we had no idea he got out until we found him in the office.” He looked uncomfortable. “He was…petting you. For a while, too. I think he was trying to help you sleep.”

Mike gave him an incredulous look. “He was just pettin’ me? That’s it?”

“Well, are you in any pain?”

“No, but–.”

“Then he was just petting you.”

Mike snorted. “Smart ass.” He crossed his arms. “Did ya call Jeremy?”

Chris shook his head. “No. I wasn’t sure if I should of or not, but they were really calm, at least the old ones were, so I didn’t.”

“Good,” the senior guard said. “I didn’t want Jeremy freakin’ out and coming down here.”

“Okay, that’s sweet and all, but what the hell was their deal?” the younger asked, looking down the hall nervously. “I’ve never seen them like that before. The Toys kept saying you were upset, but…”

Mike groaned. Of course they did. “I was,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “They’ve been buggin’ me all day.”

The janitor feigned swooning, his arm pressed against his forehead. “Oh, how sweet!” he tittered, his voice annoyingly high. “They just wanted to take care of their itty bitty–.”

Mike punched his shoulder. Chris yelped and brought a hand up to cradle it. “Shut the fuck up, Chris.”

“Prick,” the younger man grunted. He raised a brow. “So, did it work?”

Mike looked at him. “Did what work?”

“Them cheering you up.”

_No. No, they absolutely did not. I’m even more pissed than before, I’m creeped the fuck out, and I have no idea what the fuck their issues are. I don’t feel better at all._

But Mike sighed and said in a defeated voice, “Yeah.”

He ended up taking the card home. Jeremy smirked at him from the dinner table and Doll giggled.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> Story made for: https://fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction.tumblr.com/ (Check them out!)
> 
> My tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ofshippingandpancakes (Come on over and ask me stuff! Or you can do it here, I'm not your boss)


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